Runway No More
by Everstark
Summary: Pre-Skyfall. Apparently, M has a daughter. A mishap occurs, forcing her to leave the modelling industry and become James Bond's field partner. They become close friends, but she can't help but argue with the new Quartermaster. Q/OC Friendly 007/OC
1. Prologue

**A/N: Hi Everyone! This is my new fanfic for Skyfall. I had an idea while watching the movie and fangirling over Ben Whishaw and Daniel Craig. Enjoy reading and and please review! :))**

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Runway No More

Prologue

"We're here to witness the 2012 London Fashion Week. Let us now welcome the beautiful models, wearing the Burberry Fall Collection by Christine Vesta!"

Loud modern music rung in M's ears as tall women walk down the runway with hollow expressions. She watched as the models walk with graceful force that they had been trained to. It didn't really bring entertainment in her, but she had to attend because of one person. Her daughter.

She is one of those pretty models who'll share her grace on the catwalk. And for that, M is proud. She had a beautiful daughter who worked her way to the height of any model's career. She had a lot of modelling contracts from different high fashion brands, each designer longer for her to be their model. A lot of people knew her, but none of them knew that she is the daughter of the Head of MI6.

She had kept her from the prying eyes of MI6. Allies or not, nobody knew M had a daughter. Nobody knew expect for one person: James Bond.

She hadn't intended him to know about her daughter. It was only an accident when Bond came to the wrong address that he saw written on a post-it note on M's planner. He immediately assumed it was M's condominium. But wait, he thought, don't M live on an apartment? Oh well, never mind.

He went to the place, went up the right floor and door. He rung the doorbell and was surprised to see a young woman of 20. She looked as if she was from the bathroom, but Bond didn't miss the knife attached to her pantyhose.

Of course he immediately left the condominium and went straight back to the office, dismissing the young woman's confusion of having gone to the wrong address. He told the fiasco to M and she was instantly outraged. By that moment, he already had his suspicions, but M denied all claims, saying it was an address of one of her former subject who are now dead.

But Bond wasn't sure m was telling the truth, so he followed her on when she left the office to go home. Apparently, no mission has been assigned to him at that moment. Pretty odd. And he noticed M not fully present in her office awhile ago, as if something was bothering her.

So he followed her car, but was disappointed that it went straight to her home. He was hoping she would go to other places, but she did not. After seeing this, he snuck his way up to her apartment, knowing some possible ways to enter that no one else knows.

Upon reaching her living room, Bond saw M talking to someone over the phone. He overheard the rather unusual M talking as if it was a family member. She doesn't have any family left, Bond thought. But he continued eavesdropping and heard affectionate words, a liason entered his mind, but he eavesdropped more and figured that she was talking to a woman, not a man. His mind wandered over the young woman he saw in the condominium. She kind of looked like M, Bond thought. He put two and two together and had an epiphany that M might have a daughter. The phone call ended while Bond was deep in thought. He woke up from a trance when he heard a stern cough.

Uh-oh. Cover blown.

"It seems that your cover is not that inconspicuous, Bond. What are you doing in my home?" M asked, stern tone not faltering.

"You have a daughter." said Bond quietly.

Apparently, M was tired of hiding from Bond, what could happen if he knew? He wouldn't dare tell anybody. And above all that, she knew him well to figure out he's a trustworthy person.

"Yes. Too bad you found out only now." M said with dry sarcasm.

"If I hadn't persisted, you wouldn't even tell me?" Bond said.

"No one in MI6 know of her. I was trying to protect her, you see. But now you know, so stop your whining." said M flatly.

"How come?" Bond was confused and amused at the same time. Of all people who kept secrets for a very long time, he had not expected one to come from M. But then, she's a very distant person. No one in MI6 know her that well apart from him. And that's what he regret the most, M had gained his respect over a course of time, not just because she's his boss, but because she really deserves everyone's praise and respect.

"That's the only way, Bond. You know how this business works. I had to keep her from all the danger she can possibly get attached to," from flat falsetto, M's voice are now sullen, full of reasons she continued, "If you had a daughter, you'll know better than involve her in MI6."

At this, Bond had nothing else to say but, "I'm sorry if broke into your house."

He was sincere. He could ignore it, but he was drawn to the fact that M had a daughter. He wanted to know more about her. Driven by wonder if she was just like her mother, bitch-y when necessary. He tried not to laugh at the thought. But he seriously can't. So he snorted loudly, but quickly changed it to poker face.

"Something funny, Bond?" asked M, rather annoyed of Bond's sudden laugh from trance.

"It's just that, I was wondering whether she's like you, personality-wise."

"You'll find out yourself."

"When can we see her?"

"Now."

"Now?"

"Yes. You have your car?"

"Yes, but-"

"No buts, come along now, Bond. Drive us to the address you had misread." M said as she headed to the door, putting on her coat and beckoning Bond to pass by the door this time.

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**A/N: This is prologue just fell into my head while reading the Skyfall plot line and listening to electronic music. Anyways, Christine Vestra is not M's daughter, I still haven't decided on a name for her so if you have any suggestions just tell it to me. Thank you for reading! :)**


	2. Prologue Part 2

**A/N: This is my second chapter for this fanfiction. Sorry if I took a bit longer to update. I hope you like it! Read and Review! :)**

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_Prologue Part 2: Of Bourbons and Wasted Chances_

That night almost had been uneventful for everyone. When Bond and the young woman(whose name is Clara) had been properly introduced, she revealed that she already thought of him as her mother's comrade.

They got to know each other a little more better as the three of them entered the unit, with M's motherly supervision of course. M had been mostly quiet throughout the whole encounter, except when she feels inclined to answer some of Bond's suggestive questions.

Bond, on the other hand, enjoyed getting to know Clara. He learned that she was new in London and only arrived shortly after her former modelling project had concluded. She was born in Switzerland and there she studied in a private boarding school. At 16, she was sent in Edinburgh to finish her college years.

"I majored both in Computer Science and Law." Clara said. Bond's eyes perked at her revelation. "Really? How come you became a model?" Bond inquired, his interest possibly in its greatest heights.

"I never planned on it, actually. I had a blockmate in college who became my close friend. She was the one planing to apply in the modelling agency after we graduate. She asked my to accompany her then her supposedly handler asked me if I wanted to try as well," she continued, glancing at her mother, "I asked Mum for permission, and she said yes, saying it would be a great diversion from her career."

"Oh ,she was just paranoid." Bond quipped. M widened her eyes and glared at the man sitting opposite from her and her daughter.

"Please, Mum is always worried for me. And I'm having a marvellous experience in the fashion industry." Clara said, her voice mixed with Scottish and Swiss accents.

"But what about your expertise? Surely they can't go to waste?" Bond asked. He never met a women equally involved in careers separately dominated by men and women. He would hate for her to drop a large chunk of expertise that's surely difficult to acquire.

"I haven't planned on it yet. Maybe when I decide to leave modelling." she answered, a subtle hint of sadness sweeping over her face as she thought of the knowledge in laws and computer science going to waste.

M, the overprotective mother she is, called it a night on the middle of Bond and Clara's conversation with, "Drive me back to my home now, Bond. Goodnight, Clara," and stood up, feeling rather cold in the bitter September night.

Bond grunted in response. He was supposed to follow her orders, right? But he held a mischievous smile in his mind as an idea flashed through him. He bid his goodbye with Clara and escorted M back to her home.

After which, he acted upon his idea and went back to Clara's condominium. It was foolproof, M wouldn't know and he and Clara could continue their interrupted conversation. Clara was surprised to see Bond again but figured he was a persistent bloke beneath his 'I'm-an-obedient-agent-to-your-mum' person. They continued their talking and he now talked a bit more personal, like her favourites and stuff about her life, he in return, told her things only a very few people know. Maybe it was because of the bourbon that he opened up to her so easily, but he doubted it. It was more of like she has a aura like that of her mother, but in a totally different way.

Apart from all the things he found out about her, he also had observed that some of her traits differ from her mother's, in a way. For example, she had offered him something to drink, which M would never do herself. Also, she's not hesitant to smile, like a baby. But Bond thought to himself, _maybe because M really raised her in a world completely different from ours._ And maybe that's why it's so refreshing to see someone like this, because it's rare. M had hid her away from MI6, and she did an excellent job at it. Now that he thinks about it, it almost felt surreal.

That bitch-y M has a spawn and she's very different from her.

In all honesty, he had tried to seduce her, but to no avail, she declined it with her dry witticism that reminded him all well of her stern mother.

He was amused, partly because no woman can resist him and this woman just declines his charm. Another part was because he instantly felt a connection with this woman. She might be a special Bond girl, he reckoned, with no romantic feelings in between, just understanding each others' characteristics and coexisting in them.

"Bond?"

"Hmm?"

"Have you ever been in love?"

Bond was apprehensive, he glanced at her as she looks straight to the kitchen oven. They had been sitting on the kitchen floor for a while now. He decided that it's too late to hide something from her now,"It was more like a bloody confusing scenario which involves women."

"How did you deal with them?"

"I slept with them," now it was Clara's time to look at him. "That's it? What do you do after?" she asked.

"I leave them. When I wake up after I always think it wouldn't work, so I leave them. They might cry, but they'll forget about it after, for sure."

"I'm sure that's not true. I think among all of your past escapades, you might've left a mark on one or two of them." she said, and all of a sudden Bond became curious as to why she asked that blasted question in the first place. "Hey, why did you ask that, anyways? Have _you_ been in love?" he asked.

She laughed after taking a rather long sip of her almost-empty wine glass, "I don't know. I met this guy, maybe 4 years ago in Edinburgh. He was going for doctorate on IT, he also went to some of my classes as 'just sitting-in'. I never really noticed him that time, but then he asked me this difficult math question..."

"Did you answer him correctly?"

"No, I ransacked the university library just to find the answer to his question. Then I saw him there, turns out he didn't know the answer as well." Bond got into a fit of manly giggles, if there was such thing. Clara continued, smiling at the obvious absurdity of the occurrence, "Every night we search all the books in the library that might help us know the answer, but we never found it. The following week he left Edinburgh. He said it was important."

Bond's lips formed a curious frown, "He left you his number or something?"

Clara sighed, "No. I didn't asked for it. I thought those ransacking we did were merely friendly – or flirty, I don't know what's which. But he never left my mind ever since."

"Well that's just stupid." said Bond, not sure if he's feel sorry for Clara or the guy, or both. Clara just shrugged, feeling a bit weary but not all that melancholy, she let a good opportunity pass but it's not much of a loss, either. After all, they were just _rendezvous_.

"Is he wearing glasses?" Bond asked suddenly.

"No, but he said he had some minor difficulties in his eyesight."

Bond mused to himself, he don't really know a lot of people having eyesight problems or people with glasses. Often times he thought those people are only the nerdy losers, having nothing to do than sit in front of their books or computers, some people like old Q. Oh, how he missed that Q, wearing his signature lab coat and smile. He retired a bit sooner than he expected, he said he needed to rest. As if Bond knew what that meant. His eyes flickered over to the young woman beside him, thinking a bit too deep as him, "Aren't you tired, Bond?"

"As a matter of fact, I am." he said. Clara nodded and they both stood up, dusted off their bottoms, and Clara placed their wine glasses over the sink. "It was nice meeting you, Bond."

"Oh please, call me James."

"Is that a privilege?"

"Might as well be," he half-smiled, but hers were as bright as the waning moon over the night sky.

"Well, I prefer to call you Bond. James sounds a bit moony." she said, he laughed. It's true.

Their day ended with a flabbergasted M, and an older man and a younger woman smiling as they remember how it felt to meet a new friend in an ordinary way, but brought happy feelings along the road.

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**A/N: There you have it! M's daughter's name is Clara. It's a conjunction of my second name and the name of my favourite model, and it rhymes with Sarah, which one of the people who reviewed this fanfic suggested. The guy was a bit controversial, no? Hahaha :) Thank you so much! I appreciate all your follows, favorites and comments. Keep 'em coming! :)) **


	3. Skyfall

**A/N: Hello everyone! I'm so so sorry this took longer than expected. I was a bit busy on all the Christmas preparations we did at home but I guess a lot of you are, too. Anyway, I'm really gonna work on this everyday and I hope you enjoy this chapter. Also, now I'm adding some songs that helped me write up the chapters. :)  
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_"And I don't know how you get over, get over_  
_ someone as dangerous, tainted and flawed as you."_

Lana Del Rey - Million Dollar Man

Chapter 1: Skyfall

"Bond."

"What?"

"You got cream on your nose."

"Oh. Sorry." Bond said as he wiped the whipped cream of the tip of his nose. He eyed the chuckling woman in front of him and remembered how they ended up in a local coffee shop at 12:15 in the evening. Clara had suggested that they must skip a day through their busy schedules to at least meet for coffee once a week.

"It's alright." she said. It's already five months since their unlikely friendship started, but they're much closer now. Like brothers and sisters. M knew of this endeavours, and could've protested against it since Bond is almost at the center of what she worked hard on staying Clara away from. But to no avail, she reckon that her daughter is not a kid anymore, and God forbid, if anything threatens her, Bond would be there.

Clara noticed that he has been looking far out of the glass window for quite a while now. He seems disturbed but calm. It's a rather ironic mix of emotion, only a few people can make it out of others, but she knows whether Bond is at it or not.

"Is something wrong? You've been looking like you're gonna die tomorrow." she said, trying to lighten up his mood.

"Might as well be. I'm going to the field with Moneypenny tomorrow." he said, still looking at the window. His voice was somber, almost nervous. But Bond knew better than to sound nervous.

With that, all the amusement on her face was gone. He looked at her as he waited for her to respond with words but didn't, only an unreadable expression. He sighed and stared back at the window, but she touched his hand and clutched it tightly beneath her slender fingers. She tried to gaze at what he was looking before turning her head in his direction. "Be careful, alright? And don't die."

"Don't you know I have nine lives?" Bond said in a serious tone as he leaned over to her. She grinned and laughed which made him laugh with her as well.

"Well then, I wouldn't want you having 8 lives left." she said as their laugh toned down to chuckles.

"Just...don't worry too much about me." he said sincerely. She frowned a little and said to him, "That hardly ever happens."

"You know what I do from the very start. From all the people that should know when to care less, it's you."

"No, it's not easy for care to diminish once you've truly established it.," she sighed. Then they fell into deep silence.

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"Take the shot." M fiercely said through the earpiece connected to two other agents, one on impending danger and the other to-be inflicting it.

It's not right. It's never wise to take the risk when it's a far cry from triumph. Bond thought the situation inevitable and M would never hesitate to say it. He might not mind at all few months before but now it felt not right. It's as if she forgot everything they had been through. _Was that gay?_ It's only now he realized that he somehow values a part of him that was attached to something part of her.

"I can't. I might hit Bond." said Moneypenny.

Ah, always the concerned. They can't just have that in MI6. What Moneypenny needs was a push to tell her that they have a mission to do and she should be fast and quick in times when they have no room for precaution and concern. M thought of this as her eyes flare in frustration.

"I said take the bloody shot," said M. It was her final say as the next sound heard was the sound of the sniper. The sound had been so common and usual to her that it didn't even bothered her, but right now her hands were clutching tightly and scratching over the polished wooden table. Workers of MI6 look over to her as the whole floor levelled into a sickening silence.

Meanwhile in Istanbul, it seems to Moneypenny that she just took the worst bloody shot of her life. Her spine tingled with hope. Hope that it was Patrice she hit and not Bond. Her eyes focused on the top of the moving train where two men fought. It was a split second after she pulled the trigger when she saw Bond fall down the train.

She messed up this time. She wants to be punched in the face for this massive failure. _How come you never hit the one you intended to get hit?_

She saw Patrice glance at her, like he's surprised and relieved that he prevailed this time. Usually bad guys don't win, but he did because of one mistake. She thought as her lips pursed in a tight line, M must be waiting for a response now. Here goes nothing.

MI6 was like a ghost building with open lights and silent people. They were waiting for a pin-drop to hear. To break the tension, to wait for doom.

"Agent Bond has fallen." she said quietly to the earpiece as slow wind blew her hair, somehow telling her it's alright.

M knew this was coming. She doesn't blame Moneypenny. It was surely impossible to hit precisely someone sporadically moving atop a moving train. Does she regret it? No, because regret is unprofessional. And in this business unprofessional is frowned upon.

Some employees felt bile rising up their throat. Another fallen agent. They must've felt sorry for everyone involved because usually missions involving Bond are successful, but now he's the one inadvertently harmed. It's a shame that someone was hurt because of M's spontaneous decisions. But they don't know what it's like to be in her place. They don't know the pressure of it. It must be hard for her too, but at the end of the day, Bond was just another agent.

They all got back to their works wordlessly, pretending nothing had happened.

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In Bond's mind everything happened in a blur. One moment he was chasing Patrice and the next they were on top of the train and he felt a sharp pain from his shoulder that sent him plummeting backwards and now he's on a small hut with his wounds treated and bandaged.

He could smell the sea breeze as he walked towards the washroom to splash his face with cold water. People in London thinks he's dead now, and he could use it to retire. He had been in the business for quite sometime that he finds it taxing.

He sees the woman who tended his wounds and took care of him. They start to kiss passionately and both know where this would end, but as he fights for dominance he thinks of reasons not to retire. As their kiss becomes more intense he slides his fingers through her hair and thinks of someone.

He thinks of Clara. He thinks of her unruly hair when she's at home. As soon as she entered his mind his lips and body stopped moving, as well as his world.

He wasn't able to say goodbye to her. And he wouldn't be able to if he were to retire. He "died" and they were unknowingly taken away from each other. Her mom was a bitch again, and now this is some serious shit.

He's the first one to break the kiss, which makes the unnamed woman utterly disappointed. Still, he leaves her.

He walks down the shore towards nothing in particular. Has it been weeks since he was washed up on this shore? He doesn't know. He reaches a bar where he tried to get himself moving again. He drank and drank until he woke up in the same bar the next day feeling drowsy. He paid the owner and was about to leave when he saw news about MI6 being bombed. Another reason not to retire.

God, they're really calling on him now, aren't they?

_Fine, fine_, he says to himself. He needs to go back. He reckon it was best if he returns mainly because it's unfashionable to parallel your life to something unintentionally fake, and Clara would need him for coffee, as London would need him for salvation.

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**A/N: How was this chapter? Was it alright that I fast forward it a bit so we'll all have a fast forward of what happened at the start of the movie? I hope you liked this chapter. Thanks for reading! Read and Review! :))**


	4. Marcus

**I****MPORTANT A/N NOTE: This chapter continues the fashion show M had been in at the start of the prologue. The things that happened on how Bond found out about Clara happened before the fashion show in the prologue in M's reminiscing. Remember how Bond said in Chapter 1: Skyfall that he's "gonna be with Moneypenny in the field tomorrow"? Well, that "tomorrow" was the day before Clara's said fashion show in the prologue. Clara still doesn't know what happened to Bond.**

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_Underset - Berlin(Instrumental)_

_Bag Raiders - Sunlight  
_

Chapter 2: Marcus

(Continuation...)

When a mother sees her daughter in a beautiful dress, looking absolutely amazing and getting all other's appraisal, a mother couldn't be any happier. M knew what it feels to have an achievement. For other models, it could've been just another show. But for Clara, a successful show is always an achievement. She never gets used to everything. There's always a hint of excitement every time which makes it even more better. M goes to the backstage inside her daughter's dressing room. Clara's face lights up as she sees her mother.

"Mum! How was it?" she said. Her eyes undoubtedly sparkles through the vanity light.

"Oh, it was fantastic. You did great." M said lovingly to her daughter. It's one of those times her stoic expressions go out and fly to some dimension.

"Thank you, Mum. I wouldn't be able to do it without you and... " Clara looks behind her expectantly, "Where's Bond? He said he'd be here with you."

"Umm...he's still resting from his mission yesterday. He told you about that, I assume?" M said, in hopes not to stain her daughter's happiness.

"Oh yes, he told me that. I guess I'll just call him after tomorrow." she said, while looking at the flowers laid down on her table from her designer.

M looks around the room, looking for anyone who might recognize her. "I'll meet you next time, sweetheart. I'll be back at the office. Have fun at the afterparty, alright?"

"Alright. Take care." Clara said, secretly wishing her mother to stay. But alas, she would still have to attend an afterparty for the success of the show. Perhaps she could visit her mother at her house tomorrow.

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Lights were dim. They could be a little brighter, but they had chose some strobe lights for a little more dramatic effect. Clara sees her co-models as they dance to the music, most of them have dates of their own.

She sips her drink. She's beginning to feel tipsy. After mingling and socializing with other people, she decided to sit on one of the stools beside the bar. She finishes her 3rd glass and asks for another of a rather tangy alcohol. Her mind turns a bit hazy as she observes the people under the strobe lights and loud music.

She looks at nothing for a moment, then she sees him.

She sees the man who plagues her mind when it's unoccupied. She sees the man who left her hanging on some brick wall, already finding herself ready to let go. But as Clara stands up from where she sat, it's as if fate gave her a handle in hopes of holding tighter.

The man walks to the other direction and she starts walking briskly in her high heels. She bumps with other people and mutters "Sorry" without even looking at them for her mind turned narrow and only chose to focus on the man she's chasing.

As she's nearing him, she found herself heading for the door. Why are we towards the door? Is he leaving? Let me reach him first! All these thoughts crossed her mind as she saw him go to the backdoor. He didn't seem to notice as she follows him closely.

She soon finds herself outside the bar, where there's yellow light from the sunset. She calls his name loudly. A name she had long not uttered.

"Marcus!" he turns around, surprised to see someone calling him. He sees her face and it turns shocked. "Clara? The girl from Scotland?" the man, now named Marcus said. He was still a youth, maybe a bit older then Clara. Across his face was a laid-back expression, and Clara saw a little hint of smile as he knew he recognized her correctly.

Her heart fluttered and the bubbling in her stomach was worse. But she couldn't care less as she looks at him and remember the calm grey that pools in his eyes.

They were at least 25 feet away from each other. Her face shows surrender as he starts walking towards her, light from the sunset hitting his handsome face. She was ready to walk towards him too, if only her eyes would stay open and her mind would stay alert.

But before he could even reach her, a black SUV pulled up and two men wearing a suit and looking oddly familiar walked to them and grabbed both Marcus' arms.

"Hey! What are you doing? What do you want? Let me go!" he said, trying to struggle.

"What's happening?" Clara asked as she ran to man holding Marcus on the right. But her arms were flailing and she could not comprehend on anything that was happening anymore.

Before she collapsed from her drunkenness, she heard the man tell her something about MI6 and not worrying about anything.

Then everything went black.

* * *

"Who are you and why am I here?" Marcus said. He was sitting inside the rooms you'd see on telly where someone is being interrogated. He wasn't scared. At all. He was angry. Angry for being taken without his consent. Angry for leaving Clara behind. He wondered what had happened to her and how these men seem to know them both.

"Please, Mr. Holmes. We meant no harm. We just want you for a few questions," one of the men who introduced himself as Gareth Mallory said.

The two men left him in the room. After a few minutes of waiting, an intimidating-looking woman entered the room and introduced herself as M. Marcus' anger wavered for a bit, "What am I doing here?"

"Mr. Holmes, you are here in MI6, or The Secret Intelligence Service. I have read your background information and found out your...abilities in terms of cyber hacking. I apologize for the uncalled 'meeting', as you'd say, but right now MI6 is in need of new agents-"

He cut her off, "Wait, in need of agents? Are you meaning to recruit me here?"

"As a matter of fact, we are. In case you haven't heard, I am one of your father's friends. We have talked about your application. Your father demanded to postpone your internship due to your...travels, during the previous years. But now you're here, I want to inform you that if you'll accept, you'll be the new MI6 Quartermaster." M said, her intense stare not faltering.

Marcus looks flabbergasted, "What does a "Quartermaster" exactly do?"

"You'll be leading a research and development facility. You'll work on gathering information in accordance to our agents' missions, you'll be in charge of the weapons and since you are highly knowledgeable on the subject of computer, you'll be working on applying the security protocols you've created in MI6's firewall. I'm sure you're not that intrigued on your would-be pay, but I'll let you know that we pay Quartermasters 6 figures monthly." M said.

Marcus looks apprehensive in going in for MI6. Surely, nothing would be safe in his life anymore. His family could be in danger if ever. He couldn't care less about the pay. He doesn't even have to work, for goodness' sake! He could just study and study all his life, but that wasn't what he wanted. As he let M's words sink down into his mind, He thought of having to serve his country. He thought of being able to help those in need with his gifted talent. He could do bad things with his ability, but right now he chooses to go the right way, to the right people.

His love of country got the best of him, and without further ado he was signing his papers and discussing with M his other future tasks. After they've talked, he starts to leave his seat. But as he straightens his clothes, M asked him one last question,

"How did you know the woman at the afterparty? The girl, Clara?" she asked, a bit of curves showing on her face. Marcus thought for a moment before telling his new boss the truth about this woman.

He was invited by his friend Christine on her party for she was a very successful designer. She said he could also meet other people in the industry. He came across of seeing an old friend he met years back. She was a lovely girl indeed, never leaving a special part in his mind since he saw her awkwardly dancing in a university ball he attended, as part of his research on the technology of Scotland.

Clara, he got to know her better when he found out they were in the same field of study. They eventually became a wee bit closer and had rendezvous during the night, at the library, looking for answers on a question he asked her once. He was close to saying those crucial words to her, if only his fear hadn't got the best of him. He feigned occupation just to avoid her, for he fears that one step closer and he'll fall, and she might not be there to catch him. He left, without even trying to communicate with her, just to get away from the strain.

He took out his wallet and got a picture of her he took at the dance. He was holding a camera that night. He took a snapshot of her while she was looking sideways and completely unaware of his eyes that were vying for hers. Until now she didn't know...

After his confession, M had immediately dismissed him for the night. She went back to her office in the west wing of the building to gather her things and head home, with her daughter's past intriguing her.

(scene break)

The next day, Clara wakes up and recognizes it as her friend Patricia's room. She sees her fixing her things from her enormous dresser, posh and lavish as she is. Her pounded at her hangover. "What happened?" she asked as Patricia smiled when she saw her friend awake.

"You were lying on the floor outside the bar. Completely zonked out. I told Eric to help me get you here." she said, her Russian accent thick.

She picked up the medicine and drank it with coffee and asked, "Who's Eric?"

"Some guy I met yesterday." Patricia said, chuckling.

Clara laughed, her hangover wavering a bit. "I'm sorry if I ruined your booty call."

"No worries. I got his number, anyways." she said, smiling as she fondly remembered the hot English bloke.

"Thank you for bringing me here. I could've died there hadn't you saw me." Clara sighed.

"That's alright. I'm a bit worried, though. How did you get there?" Patricia asked as she sat on the left side of the bed.

"I...I couldn't remember. I don't know how I got there." Clara lied.

"Well, don't go wandering off when you're drunk, then." her friend reminder her as she prepared all her essentials and went to the door, "Hey, you can rest here until you feel better. I'll just head to the studio."

"Okay. Thanks again." Patricia smiled as she closed the door of her room, leaving Clara alone with her thoughts about last night. What happened to Marcus? Why did men from MI6 took him? Did they wanted him for something?

All these things circled in her mind. She thought of talking to her mother, even if it could be a risk to find out. She found sleep as soon as these thoughts ceased to bother her.

* * *

**A/N: So there! Now you know where our dear Quartermaster came into being. I really liked the notion of him having the family name of "Holmes" because of emerging Bondlock fics relating him to Sherlock Holmes. Although, I wouldn't mention him anytime for now. Also, since I found a few holes in the story, I decided to patch them up using this chapter. You might or might not notice them.  
The reason why I named Q Marcus was that someone who inspires me to write(at all) is a guy named Marcus. And why Patricia for Clara's friend? It's because my first name is Patricia. Ta-da! :)  
**

**Wow! This was a bit longer chapter! I decided to write faster than usual to be a little more productive in writing this story. THANK YOU for those who favorited, followed, and reviewed on this story. If you must know, today is my birthday and I am so inspired to write these chapter. Again, I hope you'd like this chapter. Tell me if you'd want to suggest anything and I'll be happy to review them. Please continue to support this story. Read and Review! :D **


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